Eliza is ten and a half weeks pregnant today. This feels simultaneously like nothing…and like so so far along.
I carried our first baby and had a rough go of it. I was sick from early on, into the third trimester. I was constantly nauseous. I started puking at ten weeks and didn’t stop, multiple times a day, for many many (many many) weeks. It was an incredibly hard time.
I will say, though, that it was also an amazing time of growth in our relationship. Always a generous and incredibly loving and supportive wife, Eliza’s approach and ability to anticipate my needs completely kicked in. We went from a relationship where I was the caregiver (simplification), to a complete switch in roles. It wasn’t always easy or painless to manage this shift, but I absolutely think it’s the reason why our transition to parenthood was so seamless and enjoyable. I know so many couples who struggle so intensely after becoming new parents. We just haven’t had that.
Anyways, in those early days of my pregnancy, the way that Eliza first showed this new talent was finding me things to eat. Very, very little appealed to me. Exceptions included: clementines, apples, G@tor@de, potato chips (K3ttle Chips, lightly salted or sour cream and onion, obviously). She’d make me these elaborate small bowls of tiny toast and tiny slices of things. It was amusing and sweet. It appealed to my aesthetic sensibilities, as well as my poor body’s lack of enthusiasm. Occasionally, I’d have a crazy craving: Indian! Falafel! Noodles! Chocolate Milk! She’d rush right out and get anything. Always without comment or judgement. It felt amazing. (And so good to finally EAT something!)
So, late this afternoon, as I left our local Ramen shop, after having placed THE MOST RIDICULOUS ORDER EVER, I had to smile and feel incredibly good to be here. Ten weeks, vomit, and a whole lot of love.
*Ramen, ramen, dream come true!